


Sulk It Up

by MusicalLuna



Category: Psych
Genre: Bad Days, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Originally Posted on Psychfic, Sulking, Whining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-18
Updated: 2009-11-18
Packaged: 2019-03-14 12:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13589703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: Shawn is throwing a pity party, but Gus has his own ideas about how things will go.





	Sulk It Up

**Author's Note:**

> Another BFFy, Bad Day type of fic for Mia. Sulking!Shawn is fun to write. XD

“I hate everything,” Shawn mumbled from where he had curled up on Gus' sofa, with his shoes _still on_.

“Shawn, get your shoes off of my nice couch,” Gus told him, grabbing the leather jacket his friend had dropped on the floor as he walked in through the front door.

“ _Guuus_ ,” Shawn whined petulantly. His feet came off of the couch cushions though, and he forced the shoes off with his toes to drop onto the carpet, face never emerging from where it had been buried against a throw pillow. “There,” he muttered, voice muffled. “Are you happy? I'm still suffering but your couch won't get dirty.”

Gus rolled his eyes and slid the jacket over the backrest of one of the chairs at the bar looking into the kitchen. "Yes, Shawn, I am happy for your information. I spent a lot of money on that couch."

"Well, as long as _you're_ happy," Shawn said sullenly. "We can all just go home, can't we."

"It's nice to see you're finally getting your priorities straight," Gus said, moving into the kitchen. He pulled a glass out of one of the cupboards and then moved to the fridge.

"What are you doing? I didn't come here to be ignored, Gus! If I wanted that I could have just gone to see my dad! Or maybe Lassie." His voice dropped to an even more bitter register. "Even Jules."

Gus filled the glass, calling, "What did Juliet do?"

Out in the living room Gus heard the sound of Shawn shifting around on the couch restlessly. "Nothing," he finally said and his voice was finally clear, if more gloomy than ever. "Absolutely nothing. That's the problem."

He growled and then there was an airy _woomf_ sound, presumably as Shawn slammed his head into the cushy arm of the sofa.

Gus took the glass in hand and headed back out to the living room.

Shawn's head was exactly where Gus had predicted it would be and he continued talking, voice incomprehensible.

"I can't hear you, Shawn. Sit up."

Shawn sighed, his entire back rising and then falling back down before he dragged himself upright. The usual brightness in his face was completely gone, replaced by shadows and scruff that seemed darker and thicker than normal. Gus held out the glass.

Shawn's eyes flicked down to it, his expression clearing just slightly. "Dude. Is that—"

"Pineapple juice," Gus confirmed. "Are you going to take it or are you just going to let me stand around here all day like an idiot?"

"Standing around sounds like fun if you ask me," Shawn said, but he accepted the glass, taking a long drink.

Gus moved to the stereo while he drank. "Now what were you saying?"

Shawn grimaced, flopping back against the couch cushions. "Jules hates me."

Gus snorted. "Please, Shawn. Of all the things in the world Juliet feels for you, hate is not one of them."

Shawn took one last sip of the still mostly full cup of juice and then set it aside, grimacing with dissatisfaction. "She should," he muttered. "My dad does."

Another roll of Gus' eyes. "He does not. You know better than that. Especially now."

Shawn flinched and grabbed one of the throw pillows, wrapping his arms around it and cramming it up against his chest, edge tucked just beneath his chin. "Lassie hates me."

Gus thought about that, his head wavering back and forth a little. "Sometimes."

"Most of the time," Shawn said. Gus glanced back at him over his shoulder to see him lying with his back facing the center of the living room, face toward the couch back, one hand picking at a seam.

"Don't do that," he ordered and then slipped a CD into the sound system, hitting the button to close the drawer after it.

Shawn huffed, hands wrapping around the pillow again. "You won't even let me sulk properly, Gus! You're supposed to agree with me about how much everybody hates me and how I suck at everything and I should just lay here until I rot and leave one of those nasty dead people stains on your precious couch."

"Please, Shawn. If you wanted somebody who would encourage you to lay around and sulk until you die, you would not be coming to me." He hit the play button and there was a moment's pause before the music started up.

Shawn turned to look over his shoulder, an incredulous expression on his face. "Are you kidding me? Jamie Cullum? Are you _trying_ to increase my suffering, Gus?"

Gus grabbed a pillow off of the nearby armchair and tossed it at Shawn's gut. "Shut up. You love this CD and you know it. Just because you're too much of a baby to admit you like girly things—"

"I do not like girly things," Shawn retorted.

"You like Jamie Cullum."

"By virtue of my _possible_ and very minor affection for _one or two_ of his songs, he doesn't qualify as girly, Gus." Shawn muttered and then rolled back over, pulling the pillow against his chest again.

Gus shook his head. "Oh, no of course not. Your 'possible' fanboying makes it perfectly masculine."

"I hate you," Shawn muttered.

Gus flopped onto the couch by his head, nearly smushing it in the process.

"OW! Dude!" Shawn complained. "Do you mind?! I'm trying to work up a good pity party here."

"Don't worry, I think you've got it down," Gus said.

When he finally realized Gus wasn't going to move, Shawn huffed irritably and crammed the top of his skull against Gus' ribs.

"I totally hate you."

"Yeah, I totally hate you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> This story archived at <http://www.psychfic.com/viewstory.php?sid=2029>


End file.
